Burlesque on O'Neill
by Paquette la Chantefleurie
Summary: Depsite the title, this really isn't a parody, and the plot hasn't even been revealed in what I have here. Sailors from various Eugene O'Neill plays are shipwrecked, trapped on a small island, and spoiler.


_A small island. Though it is resided upon, businesses are run-down and small. Chris, Don, and Langdon are shipwrecked sailors. In the opening, they are asleep on the island, not knowing it is inhabited. Tis morning, sometime in the 20's. On the island, o'course._

Chris _(asleep, drunk)_: My Yosephine come-a board de ship,  
Long time Ay vait por joo...

Don: Gawd. Langdon!

Chris: De moon, don' she shi-i-i-ine...she looka yust like joo...

Langdon _(groggily)_: Wot? _(wakes up, looks over to Chris, who has resumed quiet  
__sleep)_ De chap still be a-sleepin'._ (goes back to sleep)_

Don: He's been getting on my goat, all right, all right. An' now singin' dat  
dreadful song in 'is sleep as well!

Langdon: Don' be sore with 'im.

Don: How can all be perfectly swell after that wreck? This damn island drives  
you mad!

Langdon: You ain't drunk enou'. 'e did risk 'is life yust te save ev'ry last tad  
bit of booze we'd smuggled onto de boat.

Don: I'm not touchin' it agin, an' you know it.

Langdon: No 'un said ye 'ad te. He's a good 'un, though, ol' Chris.

Don: I don't see it. Drowning de uselessness of 'is pipe dreams in drinks...

Langdon: An' wot be wrong wid dat?'ave ye no mercy, nor pity? Leave 'im be. De  
world 'e lives in is better'n our'n.

Don: 'e wakes from it now and then. Don' 'e have no family, or nithin' to go back fer?

Langdon: Ain't never asked...to go back to what fer?

Don: A home? Folks? 'is land?

Langdon: What good is land? It's only brought big fightin'-not yust de nice  
saloon browl sort, neither. Ports as good a home as I'll ever need.  
Haven't had folks fer a long while, I s'pose. (is silent for a moment)  
Yest the shippin' fellas and port gals suit me fine, nowadays.

Don: I never want to see a whore agin.

Langdon: Dat's fine with me. _(silence)_

Don: I'm not spendin' any money this time. Once we hit the next place, I mean.  
_(Langdon appears to ignore this statement)_ Where're you shippin' off to,  
after we git off dis island?

Langdon: Dunnae ken where. I'll yest keep floating mysilf 'cross de ocean. A  
drifter's life be a fine 'un.

Don: I could never live like dis-s'long as you 'ave.

Langdon: _(referring to Chris)_ An' him.

Don: I'm a farmer. Respect'ble like. Soon to 'ave back my land...

Langdon: So that's why you won' taste the booze, eh? Can't let it take a hold'a  
ye lest ye spend all yer money fer it next time you get hooked? If ye  
saved any o' yer dough from the shipwreck, dat is.

Don: I saved it, every cent! Didn't leave me the whole voyage, see? An' I won't  
get hooked, not ev'r agin.

Langdon: All 'ight. All folks is oblig'd to their own pipe dreams.

Don: It's not a pipe dream. I'm goin' home. My next voyage won't be spent  
workin'; I'll be ridin' first class, straight to my 'omeland. My folks was  
right. Well, this time, I AM goin' home!

Chris _(awoken)_: Trying to escape dat ol' davil sea, joo?

Langdon: 'lo, chap! Ho, wot, look who'se sobered down to speech!

Chris: She keeps 'er grip, ja. _(Sees Langdon)_ Oy, Ladon! My capitalist svine!  
Ah, Ay'm in pooty svell spirits dis mornin', py Yiminy!

Don: I'm sure.

Langdon: Top o' de mornin', den, Chris.

Chris: My leedle stool pidgeon! Fine morning, ja?

Don: Easy for you to say. You and your scrambled 'ead...

Chris: Don't be a fool! Loan me a dollar! Buy me a trink!

Langdon: Hea, hea!

_(They get drinks; Don starts to walk off in disgust)_

Don: I'm gonna se if anyting else survived the wreck.

Chris: You do yust dat, leedle monkey-face! giggles Skoal!_ (drinks)_

Langdon: Here's luck. _(drinks)_

Chris: Tchee, tchee, tchee, tchee, tchee, tchee...(hums)

Langdon: Well, t'least someone's in a bright mood.

Chris: De day is coming! Ve vill vin dis time, Ay knows it! Down vith de  
bourgeouis rats vith vings! De first shall soon be a-haning on-a de  
lamp posts, Ay feel it, py Yiminy!

Langdon: Your Movement sure was grand, Chris. Grand flames it caused, it did!

Chris: By Yiminy! It vas Grand!


End file.
